


balancing on breaking branches

by sunbeamsky



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Drugs, JJ Needs a Hug, M/M, Pope misses his best friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25524442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbeamsky/pseuds/sunbeamsky
Summary: JJ goes to the water when the world begins to spiral around him. Always has.
Relationships: Pope Heyward/JJ Maybank, Pope Heyward/Kiara Carrera
Comments: 10
Kudos: 115





	1. you never gave a warning sign

The day his mom left was a completely ordinary day. JJ was ten, his hair had been long enough that it was starting to fall over his eyes and he would have to tuck it behind his ears when he watched cartoons. Big John had been home that week and had asked JJ’s mom and dad if he could take both of the boys camping that weekend. JJ had eaten leftover mac and cheese for lunch and had put on a sweatshirt when he left to go meet John B because it was November and the air pinched at his pale skin. 

Usually when somebody left there was a fight. A reason. At least, that’s what JJ had always heard. But JJ’s mom had been happy when he left—maybe she hadn’t, maybe JJ had only thought she was happy. She ruffled her fingers through his hair but she didn’t hug him, didn’t kiss the top of his head. 

Luke wouldn’t tell JJ where she went. Why she left. 

Instead, he drove to the liquor store and when he came back home he ran right through the mailbox and he had his music really loud. 

JJ hadn’t understood that night. He knew his dad was angry but he ate some pretzel sticks while he tossed his hacky sack up and down at the foot of his bed. He didn’t have any trouble falling asleep. 

She was still gone when he woke up. Still gone when he got home from school. Still gone when he got back from his camping trip with John B and Big John. 

JJ started to cry when his dad yelled. _She’s gone, boy. She ain’t coming back._ It was the first time Luke had ever hit him. 

It hurt. Fucking badly. 

But JJ was ten and Luke told him he could never, ever tell anybody. JJ knew his dad had been drinking, that he was sad too. JJ waited until his dad fell asleep and then he grabbed his bike from the backyard and peddled as fast as he could until his tires hit sand. 

It was too dark to surf or to swim. JJ didn’t want to get in the water, not really. The salt would just hurt the cut on his arm where Luke had pushed him too hard against the door hinge. 

JJ sat on the sand, crossed his legs and tucked them beneath his bum. There was nobody around to hear him cry. He wished—just a little, unassuming wish—up to the stars that his Mom would come home soon. 

She doesn’t.

* * *

The first time somebody calls DCS on Luke is in fifth grade. 

JJ thinks it was his teacher, because he wasn’t careful and he wore a short sleeve t-shirt when he knew better. Luke sits him down at the dining room table and explains how they’re going to handle it. He helps JJ cleans up the dishes that have been piling up in the sink and he puts all the alcohol from the living room into the cabinet above the fridge. He puts JJ’s clothes in the washer so there will be something clean for him to wear when the social worker gets there. 

“I love you, son,” he says, and JJ clings to the words. “I don’t want them taking you away from me. And you don’t want to be away from your daddy either, do you?”

JJ shakes his head because he really doesn’t want that. It had been two months since his dad had last hit him. Two days ago, when he did though, it hadn’t even been that bad. Luke had picked him up after it was all over and held him. He had told him everything was going to be fine. 

And it would be fine, if JJ did exactly what Luke told him and they could get the social worker to leave them alone. 

It’s a woman and she gets to their house at exactly five—the time they had been given. JJ had his clean clothes on and is combing his hair when the doorbell rings. 

She follows Luke around the house, glancing around the rooms and biting down on her lips or nodding at stupid things like electrical outlets or the ceiling fans. She watches JJ as he trails behind them and he stays close to Luke because if not the lady might reach out and steal him away from his dad. 

After the house tour, the women wants to take JJ on a walk. He freezes but Luke just gives him a light pat on the shoulder and tells him to go with her. He isn’t sure but his dad smiles and the woman smiles and he follows her out the back door. 

They walk around his house and down his street until they’ve reached the main road, and then they turn around and walk back. 

She asks him all sorts of questions. He tells her about school and John B and Pope and about surfing. She asks about his mom but he doesn’t want to talk about that at all. He refuses to answer so instead she asks about his dad. He knows how to answer her questions. He remembers what Luke told him to say if he wanted to stay at home. 

Before they go back inside she gives him a little piece of paper with her name and her phone number and tells him that if he ever feels scared at home he should go someplace real quiet and give her a call. He puts the little paper in his pocket and tells her he will—even though he knows he will throw the paper away as soon as she leaves. 

When the visit is over Luke gives JJ a bowl of ice cream and they watch a movie. Luke starts drinking about ten minutes into it but he doesn’t drink himself into a fit, just into exhaustion and he’s asleep by nine. JJ cleans up his bowl and throws the empty bottles into the recycling bin out back. He sneaks the rest of the potato chips into his room and stays up late scribbling images of surf boards and super heroes on his school books.

* * *

JJ gets really good at talking to social workers and the next time he has a home visit—which is in seventh grade—his dad doesn’t even have to tell him what to say. JJ cleans the house and puts his clothes in the washer and puts all the alcohol in the cabinet above the fridge. He makes coffee and gives two large cups of it to Luke while he searches under his bed to find textbooks to put on the kitchen table and on his desk. He lets Luke borrow his deodorant. 

Nobody ever takes him away. Luke stops giving him ice cream after every visit. He never, ever hits him those nights. JJ always feels relieved. Relieved his dad isn’t angry. Relieved he is still at home. 

But the relief drowns out of his body within a few days typically. He’ll do something to set Luke off—wrong place, wrong time—and Luke will hit him. Usually on his chest, sometimes around his neck. But it’s always careful. For as drunk and sloppy as Luke will be, it’s always careful. 

A third of the time, Luke will say he loves JJ the next day. But he never says he’s sorry. 

It hurts more and more the older JJ gets and he isn’t sure why because he’s getting bigger and stronger and Luke is getting older and drunker. JJ thinks it might just be in his head. 

His dad always, always hits him on the anniversary of his mother’s disappearance. It’s usually the worst of the whole year. JJ goes to the beach at night when it’s all over and he has the sand all too himself. He keeps his cuts away from the salt water, laying down on his back tentatively so the dunes don’t put too much pressure on his bruises. He still makes wishes—very quiet, very secret wishes—to the stars. He wishes for his mom to come home. It was never like this before she left.

* * *

The night of the ship wreck is a whole different type of hurt. The type of hurt that Luke can’t achieve through punches alone. The kind of hurt that JJ didn’t understand when he was ten and thought his mom would be walking through the front door by the end of the week. The kind of hurt that he couldn’t hide inside of him in front of Pope and Kiara and all the people surrounding them in that stuffy white tent. 

When Officer Shoupe tells them what happened all JJ can do is clench his fists and yell because he’s not sad yet. He’s only angry. 

The sadness takes a few minutes—his mind can’t process it that quickly. When it hits though, it hits hard. And JJ can’t hold back his tears, especially when he sees Pope and Kiara have started to cry. Mr. and Mrs. Carrera cradled Kie in their arms and JJ’s gut hurts. Pope’s mom runs across the tent and pulls him against her chest. Heyward holds them both. Suddenly, JJ remembers how cold it is. How alone he is. 

Heyward looks up, as if he knew exactly what JJ was thinking, and reaches out his arm. JJ knows Heyward thinks he’s a shitty friend for Pope, that he’s shitty. But he is so close to falling completely apart and the thought of being held is too much to turn down. Heyward pulls him into the hug but Pope anchors him in place—keeps him from crumbling into the dirt. 

Pope’s tears on his shoulder are wet and it reminds JJ that John B had drowned. The water had surrounded his body and penetrated through his lungs until he had no air left to breath. JJ chokes on his breath but there’s no water in his mouth and he tells himself to breath. 

Pope breaks away and JJ’s legs sway. He reaches for Kie because Pope needs her. Pope doesn’t need JJ the way JJ needs Pope. 

Maybe Heyward notices, maybe he’s just being kind. He cups JJ’s chin and tells him that he’s alright. He wraps his arms around JJ and it doesn’t hurt. 

JJ wonders if maybe Heyward will ask JJ if he wants to stay the night but instead he offers JJ a ride home. JJ accepts because Pope and Kiara won’t let go of each other and that hurts too. JJ isn’t sure why. Maybe he feels left out. Maybe it’s something else. 

Heyward leads him to the car and helps him with his seatbelt when his fingers shake too much to do it himself. 

Luke is passed out on the couch when JJ gets home, which is a good thing for some many reasons. He doesn’t know about the Phantom yet. He won’t hear JJ cry himself to sleep. JJ watches Heyward’s headlights disappear through his bedroom window and he contemplates going to the ocean. Thunder breaks out across the sky and a bolt of lightning illuminates his bedroom through his mangled blinds so he takes off his boots and sheds his clothes onto the floor. He really wishes he could go to the beach. He really wishes his mom was here.

* * *

Luke finds out about the Phantom the next day. 

It’s bad.

* * *

Everything changes after John B dies. It goes from John B and JJ and Pope and Kie to Pope and Kie and to just JJ. They grieve and it puts a space between them. Or at least, it’s easier to blame it on the grief than it is to blame it on himself. 

JJ doesn’t answer Pope’s texts. Kie doesn’t reach out but Pope tells JJ, in one of the many unanswered messages, that Kie is really struggling. He says she won’t get out of bed. It’s sad but it makes JJ angry because he can’t lay around even if he wanted to. He has to work. He has to spend as little time as possible at home because Luke hits him a lot now. He has to figure out how he’s going to pay his restitution money. His hearing is coming up soon. He doesn’t reach out either. 

He smokes a lot more. At first it’s just weed, because that’s all JJ has. But he can’t afford to keep buying it and save for his restitution fund, so finds Barry and he starts selling to earn his keep. Cocaine doesn’t relax him the way weed does. He’s scared to try heroin, so he doesn’t. Not yet. But he needs something because his body aches and he misses John B and he really misses Pope and Kiara but he can’t work up the strength to text either of them back. 

He doesn’t see them all summer. Pope still texts him, but it’s less and less.

* * *

JJ doesn’t show up to the first day of school because there’s a big purple bruise right across his face and he doesn’t have the energy for school. His probation officer is going to be mad because part of his deal was to go to school. 

He was working for the Thorntons every day after school and on Saturdays too. He lost his job at the country club after Midsummers but he doesn’t actually get paid, per se, by the Thorntons. He just has to work off his debts. He also has to do community service—an idea Mrs. Thornton had because there wasn’t really twenty-five thousand dollars worth of work for JJ to do at her office or around their house. 

Without any extra time to earn his own money, he can’t afford to eat very much. Luke rarely buys groceries, usually too drunk to notice or runs out to McDonalds for dinner. He never offers to get food for JJ. He hasn’t told JJ he loves him since JJ sunk the Phantom. JJ’s stomach growls and occasional Mrs. Thornton offers him some lunch or a glass of lemonade. He misses having Kie finesse them free food. He misses his paychecks. He misses his friends. 

Between working off his debts to Barry and his debts to the Thorntons, JJ barely has a moment in the day to himself. So when he does, it’s late at night and tucked away on the beach. Summer is slowing starting to turn to fall and JJ brings a hoodie to keep him warm from the ocean breeze. He doesn’t let himself make any wishes. He can’t do that to himself any more. 

He twirls his zippo between his fingers. Lighting it. Clicking it off. Lighting it again. His initials are carved into the front and it reminds him of the day he and John B smoked for the first time. He pushes the memory aside before it lingers long enough to hurt. JJ has a little bit of weed left but he’s not going to see Barry again for three days and doesn’t want to smoke it all right now. 

JJ shoves the zippo in his pocket right as his phone vibrates. It’s Pope. 

JJ has stopped even looking at the messages. He turned the preview off on his lock screen so he wouldn’t be tempted to open them anymore. But this isn’t a text, this is a call. JJ really doesn’t want to answer but his finger slides across the green bubble and suddenly Pope’s voice fills his ear. 

“JJ?”

He’s not sure why Pope asks. Who did he expect to answer?

“Yeah.”

“You weren’t at school.”

“I wasn’t.”

Talking to Pope used to be easy. It doesn’t feel easy any more. JJ doesn’t know what to say. He hasn’t had a real conversation in a very long time. 

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

And it doesn’t. School is absolutely irrelevant right now. If JJ were in school, he wouldn’t have time to sell for Barry and work for the Thorntons. 

“It matters to me.”

Pope does that sometimes. Says something too thoughtful to JJ. Casually, as if he doesn’t realize the impact it has on JJ. Pope’s voice never wavers when he says stuff like that, when he cares too much. JJ isn’t sure why the words make him feel defense—Pope’s his best friend, it shouldn’t be as weird as it is. JJ grabs a handful of sand and watches the shadows fall between his fingers. 

“I was sick. It’s not a big deal.”

“Sick? JJ, I know you’re not sick.”

“I could be sick.”

“You’re not.”

JJ doesn’t know how Pope knows he’s not really sick. 

“Where are you?” he asks suddenly. 

“In bed,” JJ lies. 

“No, you’re not.”

How does Pope always know anyway?

“I’m falling asleep.”

“Dude, I can hear the wind. Are you at the beach or something?”

In the time JJ tries to think up a good lie, Pope seems to connect the dots. 

“I’m coming. Which beach are you at?”

“I’m not—”

“JJ,” Pope says, and something about the tone of his voice makes JJ’s shoulders fall. 

“Rixton’s Cove.”

“Stay. I’ll be there in five.”

Pope hangs up before JJ can respond. But he stays. Partly because he’s too tired to stand up. And, because he really can’t face Pope sober, he rolls the rest of his weed into a joint and lights up. He’s only had a few hits when he hears footsteps. 

“It’s so cold,” Pope whines as he takes a seat next to JJ, “Why the fuck are you here?”

JJ shrugs—he knows that Pope can connect the dots for himself. 

“I’ve missed you.”

“I know,” JJ says, because he’s not brave enough to say _I’ve missed you too_.

“It’s been two months,” Pope adds, as if JJ doesn’t know. Maybe he didn’t realize how quickly the days went by sometimes. “I’ve been so worried.”

Pope worries too much. Especially about JJ. He shifts and takes another hit. 

“Dude,” Pope says softly, too softly for JJ. “Are you okay?” Based on the wavering of Pope’s voice, JJ can tell that Pope knows that he’s far from okay. 

“Never better.”

It so much easier to lie. 

“Don’t do this, man.”

“Do what?”

“Push me away. I’m sick of it.”

There’s no bite to Pope’s voice, only gentleness, and that’s what sets JJ off. 

“Shut up, Pope. Just shup up!”

“What?”

“If I wanted to talk to you, I would’ve fucking texted you back.”

It’s dark, but JJ can see the way Pope tenses at that. It feels really good though, to release, so he keeps going. 

“This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What’s my fault?”

“I said shut up!” It’s harsh. JJ knows how harsh it is. “Fifty thousand dollars, man. That’s what I owe because of you!”

Pope doesn’t seem to care that much that JJ wants him to shut up, because he asks, “How is it fifty?”

“Restitutions and reparations, man. All because of you. How do you think I’m gonna pay them back? How do you think I’m paying Barry back without any fucking money? How do you think I could possibly go to school when I’m working from sunrise until sunset just so I don’t go to fucking juvie, Pope? Huh?”

Pope is silent. It’s the first time JJ wants a response and he doesn’t say a word. 

“I’m gonna be doing this for years because of you! John B’s fucking dead in the ocean somewhere and you and Kie are off macking on each other while I can’t even afford to fucking eat anymore and by the time I’ve paid off my debts you’re going to be off at some fancy school and Kie’s gonna be doing whatever the fuck she’s gonna do and where do you think I’ll be, huh?”

“What do you mean you can’t afford to eat?”

JJ rolls his eyes because that’s not what he wanted Pope to focus on. 

“Bro, talk to me.”

Bro. 

JJ kicks at the sand and tries to take a breath so his lungs don’t fill with water. Pope reaches out but JJ pulls away because it’s dark and JJ forget that it was Pope sitting next to him. 

“JJ?”

It’s too soft. Pope is always too gentle. 

JJ starts to cry and he wishes he was still angry. Anger is so much easier than this. 

“I’m so sorry,” Pope says, reaching out for JJ again. This time JJ doesn’t pull away. He’s too tired. Pope’s hand rests on his shoulder. It’s firm but not so tight that it will bruise.

* * *

Pope drove JJ to McDonald’s because it was open and JJ got lightheaded when they stood up. JJ wants to argue because the offer makes him feel pathetic but he feels dizzy and his stomach growls so he gets into Pope’s car and watches as raindrops begin to shower across the windows. The motion of the windshield wipers calms him a bit. Pope doesn’t say much on the way there. 

He gets a milkshake after he forces JJ to order more than just a burger and fries. JJ really wanted more than that but he didn’t want to push. All the tables are open since nobody else is awake but they sit in the corner where it’s far enough from the counter that the employees won’t hear them. 

Which is funny because they don’t really talk. At least, not for a while. 

“Kie and I aren’t together,” Pope says once JJ is done with the two hamburgers and is starting on his fries. Pope’s only had a few sips of his milkshake. 

“Really?” JJ asks, his voice raspy from the crying and filled with half-chewed fries. Pope nods. 

“After everything that happened, neither of us really wanted to dive into a relationship.”

JJ doesn’t know what to say. For some reason he feels a bit relieved. He doesn’t know why—even though he does, in fact, know exactly why. 

He’s always known. He’s always tried to convince himself he was confused. But he’s always known. 

“She asks about you.”

“Oh.”

“I know you two don’t talk anymore, I know we don’t talk anymore. But we still care about you.”

Pope is too forward most of the time. He cares so openly that JJ can’t always believe Pope is real. 

“Is there anything you want me to tell her?” Pope asks when JJ doesn’t say anything. It’s weird, to not be the talkative one. Pope is good at it though. 

“Don’t tell her about this,” he asks, motioning down to the food. He hopes that Pope knows he’s talking about JJ not being able to eat. 

“Nothing else? Not even a hello?”

“Hello is fine.”

“Okay, JJ,” Pope sighs and takes a sip of his milkshake. JJ knows he’s being difficult, he knows Pope is more patient than anybody he’s ever met, but it still makes his chest tighten. “Whatever.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Tell Kie I said hi.”

“Why don’t you tell her yourself? Why don’t you ever talk to us anymore?”

JJ isn’t ready for this conversation but he’s all out of fries and Pope’s eyes are stuck on him and there’s no way he can just bolt. Well, maybe he can. Not if he lets his own eyes meet Pope’s though. 

“Is it your dad?”

“Don’t ask me that.”

“JJ, come on. You’re my best friend, you don’t have to hide this shit from me.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” And he didn’t. There was no way Pope knew what he was asking of JJ. 

“Then tell me, JJ.”

And for a moment, JJ considers telling him. He really didn’t have much to lose.

“I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” Pope asks, his voice softer again. JJ’s eyes fall to his hands because looking at Pope makes him want to cry and he’s not doing that again tonight. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

JJ made the mistake of meeting Pope’s eyes. Warm and open and fucking up the way JJ felt. His breath hitched and he knew why. 

“I want to know why we don’t talk anymore.”

Straight forward. Maybe for once in his life JJ can be straight forward.

“Because,” he took a deep breath, trying to remember all the reasons why he shouldn’t say anything, “it’s hard to talk to you sometimes.”

“Why?”

JJ wished they were still on the beach in the dark. Wished for a lot of things. 

“Because I like you.”

He couldn’t take it back. Not now. Couldn’t spin it if he wanted to. 

Pope’s eyes widened and then his brows scrunched as if he didn’t quite understand. JJ didn’t want to elaborate. 

“You like me?”

JJ shrugged and bit down on his lip because everything felt like too much. 

“You mean—?”

“Yeah, like that.”

“Oh,” Pope expressed quietly, shocked. He didn’t sound mad but he didn’t sound particularly excited either. JJ wanted to bury himself in the sand. 

“Look, thanks for the food, but I have to get home,” JJ started, sliding out of the booth to stand up. 

“Wait. Don’t,” Pope protested, standing up himself but JJ was always taking steps away. 

“I have to go.”

And he ran all the way to the beach.


	2. (i gave so many signs)

If JJ had a boat life would be a lot easier. If he had a boat he’d be setting sail and cruising straight down the Atlantic Coast, swerving a hard right near Miami, and finally touching down in the Yucatan Peninsula. He could swim and surf and eat lobsters until his hair went grey and his back broke down. He could have a houseboat with a slide and sleep with all the windows open so he could hear the crickets and the crashing waves along the rocks and sand. 

If he had a boat he could sail away before Pope found him.

But JJ didn’t have a boat. Nor did he have anywhere to hide. He wasn’t dumb enough to go right back to Rixton’s Cove, but he was dumb enough to go to the Chateau. Well, it wasn’t a dumb idea at the time. The HMS Pogue was at the Chateau and JJ was in need of a boat. A plus B and all that. 

The real difference was: Pope had a car. So while JJ ran and tried as hard as he could to think about Yucatan and lobsters and stars, Pope had managed to drive all over town and still made it to the Chateau before JJ. And JJ would’ve turned around if it wasn’t so dark outside and Pope’s car hadn’t been turned off. 

“JJ? What the hell, man?”

Pope’s voice shocked him and he jumped, instinctively clenching his fists out in front of his chest in case the noise was Barry coming to pay his respects. Or Luke. 

It was Pope. Standing, back hunched slightly in the worried way that Pope often stood, with his hands lowered and eyes kind and wide. And JJ had the biggest fucking crush on him. 

“You can’t just walk away when someone’s talking to you,” Pope continued but JJ was furious and still shocked and he shoved past Pope hard enough that Pope stumbled. To JJ’s dismay, he followed JJ through the yard and around back. “JJ!”

“Shut up, Pope.”

He marched up the steps of the porch, up and down around the police tape, and into the house. Pope followed him more gracefully as JJ took the HMS Pogue keys from the kitchen counter bowl where they always sat. 

“Taking evidence from a crime scene, that’s really smart.”

“This isn’t a fucking crime scene.”

“This isn’t a crime scene? Look around, dude!”

JJ tried to shove past Pope but he stood firm in the doorway with his arms outstretched. JJ wanted to shove him as hard as he could but he also refused to push very hard. Not when one wrong blow could send everything crumbling down. 

“The cops are gonna come looking for you if you take that? And what then, JJ, do you want to be considered an accessory for murder?”

“John B didn’t fucking murder anyone.”

“I’m being serious right now. Do you really want to give the cops more reason to put you in jail?”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Well I do.”

JJ froze, giving up on shoving around Pope and instead he huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. 

“Move.”

“Only if you’ll talk about what you said to me.”

“Pope, no—”

“Yes, we’re going to talk about this.”

“God, Pope. Just fucking move!” JJ threw his hands too hard, palms out, and shoved Pope backward. Pope’s grip on the doorframe was stiff and he definitely stumbled but he didn’t fall to the ground like JJ was expecting. His eyes were wide and JJ couldn’t tell if it was fear or just the darkness of the room. “Move!”

JJ knew he was being childish, knew he sounded childish as his voice began to tremble with rage and exhaustion and a bit of desperation. Pope shook his head. 

“Let’s talk. That’s all I want to do and then you can sail away to Yucatan or wherever the hell you were planning on going.”

Pope let a hand fall from the doorframe and motioned for JJ to sit down on the couch. 

“Wasn’t gonna go to Yucatan,” JJ mumbled as he took a seat. Pope didn’t turn on any of the lights but the moon glowed through the windows just brightly enough that JJ could see the curves of Pope’s face. It was private but JJ knew he was still seen and he wished the moon would just shut up. 

“You like me, huh?” 

It sounded so innocent when Pope said it that way. Maybe it had always been innocent. But the thought of Pope knowing, the thought of Kie knowing, felt violating and raw and guilty. 

“Maybe.”

“It was really brave of you to tell me.”

“Shut up, Pope.”

“I mean it.”

“Shut up, Pope!” JJ yelled, angry that Pope wasn’t angry. Angry that Pope wasn’t hitting him or kissing him. Angry that this revelation seemed to have such a tiny effect on Pope while simultaneously tearing JJ apart. “If I could take it back I would, but I can’t. It was stupid and we can just forget that it ever happened.”

“It wasn’t stupid.”

This conversation was stupid and it was too dark to see Pope’s facial expressions and JJ knew if he got up now Pope couldn’t stop him. 

“Can we just forget about it?” JJ asked instead because he most likely couldn’t make it to Yucatan in the HMS Pogue and in a few years all his debts might be paid off and maybe he could actually just buy a plane ticket. 

“I don’t want to forget about it,” Pope said, quietly and confidently and in a voice so raw it gave JJ goosebumps. JJ knew it wasn’t what he wanted, knew Pope was just being a good friend. But Pope’s voice sounded different, sounded gentler and it hurt. 

“What do you want, then? To sit in the dark and talk about our feelings?”

“Well—”

“It was a rhetorical question, Pope!”

“No, JJ. That is what we should do because John B is dead and you haven’t talked to your friends in two months. We’ve been so worried about you man, about your dad. And then when we finally do talk again you tell me that you’re basically starving and that you like me and now you just want to run away again and ignore us? Not this time.”

Pope’s hand raised into the air and then came crashing down in the space between JJ’s fingers and it was strong and gentle and made JJ’s skin feel like it was on fire. Pope squeezed, drawing their fingers together so tightly that JJ knew he couldn’t just run away. Pope had to know the effect that it had on JJ. 

“Please, don’t cut me out again.” Pope’s voice was shaky and it sounded slushy and JJ momentarily forget how to turn inhales in exhales and by the time he could manage to get a full breath in, he realized he was actually going to have to be honest with Pope. 

JJ was really good at partial truths. He was a good liar because there was always a tinge of truth—hidden between the lines somewhere—in all the lies he told. He had spent his whole life making excuses and crafting stories that were so close to the truth that no one could see where the blurred lines were drawn in the sand. 

But Pope was asking for the truth. The real, whole, honest truth. And JJ didn’t know how on earth to be truthful. 

“What else do you want me say?” he asked because there were a million things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t say too much and ruin everything more than he already had. Omitting the truth was different than lying, it wasn’t pretend. It was just strategic. 

“How, uh, long?”

“A long time, Pope.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The darkness coated some of the awkwardness but the air between them was heavy and JJ wished he had something to fiddle with. 

“Like, for real?” Pope asked suddenly, maybe even hopefully. JJ wished Pope would stop asking because JJ had already told him he liked him, he didn’t need to be teased over and over again. 

“No, Pope, I’m just fucking with you. Yeah, I’ve had a crush on your since I met you and it’s super embarrassing and I really don’t want to keep talking about it, okay?”

“A crush?”

JJ wanted to scream but he didn’t have the energy.

“Yeah, a crush.”

Pope’s hand was still tethered to his own the touch was a bit too much right now. Pope’s grip loosened and suddenly he drew his hand back. Maybe he was thinking about all the times JJ had stood too close or texted him too late into the night. Maybe he was thinking about—

Lips.

Lips pressing against JJ’s own that must belong to Pope because there was nobody else in the room. Lips that engulfed his own, lips that JJ had been dreaming about for years suddenly kissing him. Pope was kissing him.

Hands.

Hands whose fingertips brushed around his ears and through his hair and held his head steady. Hands that could just as easily be hitting him but held him so gently. 

JJ’s breath hitched and he relaxed his lips, pressing them against Pope’s and drew his own hands around Pope’s neck to cradle the back of his head. 

The moment was gone just as quickly as it had come and Pope’s eyes were the only light in the room but JJ didn’t need to see Pope to know he had never looked more handsome. 

“So much for talking,” JJ teased, breathless and flustered but feeling the first shred of confidence he had all night. “What was that?”

“That was a kiss, JJ.” 

JJ rolled his eyes. 

“I know that. I mean, why did you do that?”

“I’ve always wanted to,” Pope whispered, face so close to JJ that he could feel the breath on his skin. Pope’s lips lingered around JJ’s but didn’t come close enough to touch. 

“You have?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Maybe you should do it again, then?”

Before Pope could make up his mind and before JJ melted into the couch cushions, he drew Pope’s face towards his own and pressed their lips together again. Pope’s hands wrapped around his waist this time, tugging JJ closer to dismiss the space between them. Pope’s lips were one thing, but having his entire body pressed against JJ was a whole different story. 

It was real and it was happening and it was everything and nothing like JJ had pictured it. All the daydreams of Pope’s hands and his lips and his smile gave him butterflies and rosy cheeks, but the real Pope made JJ speechless, made him feel like he was walking on water, made him feel so confident he could run a marathon or paint the Mona Lisa. The real Pope was a million times better than the daydream Pope. 

“Don’t go away again,” Pope pleaded into the kiss, voice wet but light and just as breathless as JJ’s. “Please.”

“I won’t,” JJ promised, tucking his face into Pope’s shoulder and indulging in the immense comfort and safety he felt there. Pope’s arms drew him closer somehow, stable and real against his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short chapter, but a happy ending.


End file.
